Man with No Name- Dropping Wood onto Chico

There was a large tree opposite where Chico was squatting and a wagon was parked beneath it. The stranger slid quietly on to the wagon and then hoisted himself up into the tree, causing leaves to rustle as he supported himself in the deep V of two thick branches.

Chico heard the nose and sprang to his feet, sliding the glove back on his hand as his eyes searched the yard for the source of the sound. The stranger drew one of his revolvers and aimed, squeezed the trigger. Chico squealed in alarm as a bullet ploughed into the ground half an inch from his foot. He lurched backwards, whipping out his own gun. The stranger continued to fire, emptying his pistol, driving Chico back against the door as bullets patterned the ground between his splayed feet.

The door was supported by two ropes fastened at the top and hitched to brackets in the wall above. When the stranger drew his second pistol it was these ropes at which he aimed and three bullets in each sliced enough strands for the wight of the door to do the rest. The heavy wooden slab fell, crashing into the top of Chico’s head, sending him sprawling. Empty pistols in his hands, the stranger leapt down from the tree and approached Chico, stooped over him to ensure the man was unconscious. He was, but then he began to groan. The stranger picked him up by the scruff of his neck, twirled one of his pistols around his finger and brought the butt down hard against the side of Chico’s head. Then he dropped him to the ground and went through the open doorway to the wing of the house.

- A Fistful of Dollars novel, chapter 13